A Point in Time
by dios the whale
Summary: [naruto[practically non-existant sasunaru[short, one-shot] Three years of attempted assassinations and three more years under house arrest later, he wonders if the world behind the glass is some kind of twisted metaphor.


Disclaimer: Kishimoto Masashi owns all.

He watches in detuned amazement as the world behind the glass comes undone.

Steam rises from the surface of the water, distorting his narrow view of the atrium that lies beyond the half-closed shouji. The teabag, made of cheap paper and full of cheap herbs, sinks forever lower, a waterlogged Ophelia, bleeding green until it is sapped.

For twenty minutes, he lays there, tatami pressing cross-hatched scars into his skin. For twenty minutes, the whole world is sideways. For twenty minutes, he entertains the possibility that the world behind the glass is an unlikely metaphor for his entire life, that this is not a small event that he alone is witness to, but something that will stretch into his last breath. For twenty minutes, he is falling until, come the one thousand one hundred and ninety-ninth second, he can feel the chill wind of Satan's wings.

He doesn't touch the tea.

The front door slides open, and wind rushes through the genkan and the room in which he lays, letting fly anything loose and light enough. It pushes at his back and ruffles his clothes. Paper cranes, rising, distorting his vision, such great heights, and… The door closes.

He watches the papers as they fall.

Despite its nineteen years, the figure that he can see out of the corner of his eye stands at no more than five feet. A vest, laden with weapons and scrolls, is thrown heavily to the floor at his back. Now they are equals. The figure takes a seat beside him, crossing its legs and leaning forward until its chin is at floor-level, turning its head to the side.

"Tadaima."

He mouths an "okaeri" in response, but "kae" is the only sound that his vocal cords produce.

The figure smiles widely at him, rights itself, and puts the back of its hand to the glass mug that sits before him.

"It's cold."

The figure stands and pushes open the shouji, and he can finally see all of the atrium. It pours the cold tea on a plant and watches as it seeps into the black soil below.

He wonders why the one person that he has hurt the most is the same person who has made it a daily ritual to visit, to talk to him, to smile at him. To make him feel alive.

"It looks like it's going to rain," it says as it builds a mirror between them, laying down six inches from him, becoming his reflection.

He wants to reach out and touch the figure's face, still childish after so many years, but he knows that the glass wall is between them. He looks at its eyes, and for once, they are not clear; they are blurred with tears or sleeplessness or pain. He wonders what color he would bleed if he were to drown in those eyes.

"Do you think it will wash everything away?"

The figure knows that he speaks of his sins, and its throat has become so tight that it cannot breathe at all. So, it smiles and puts its right hand to the mirror between them because it does not know how to stop his bleeding and it cannot stop him from falling any more than it could have when they were naïve and climbed trees at midnight in the summer of their twelfth year. Its reflection follows, close in tow.

It mouths a "yes" in response, but a faint, breathy "eh" is the only sound that its vocal cords produce.

He can see tears gathering in the figure's eyes, and it blinks rapidly in an effort to stop them, to no avail. They crawl a slow journey down its face before they fall, and he watches as they seep into the tatami below. It turns its face down, hiding its eyes behind its bright mop of hair. Its hand begins to shake against the glass. He hears it whisper from the other side of the mirror: "Your temptations are ugly, moving forward by stumbling."

'I never stop hurting you, do I?'

He watches in detuned amazement as the world behind the glass comes undone.

_fin._

**Translation blah (you guys probably already know this stuff, but just in case):**  
_shouji_ - sliding, paper doors  
_tatami_ - straw mats; floor covering  
_genkan_ - house entrance; where you put the shoes and crap  
_tadaima_ - "I'm home"; general, "Hey, I'm coming into your house," type deal  
_okaeri_ - "Welcome home"; general, "Hey, what's up; welcome to my house," type deal


End file.
